


I Love You THIS Much!

by deltachye



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkwardness, Courtroom Drama, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Lawyers, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-Divorce, Reader-Insert, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, commission, i think ive covered all my bases w these tags. can u see where this is going? LMAO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22961602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [reader x single father!iwaizumi hajime]Old friend Oikawa Tooru had called in The Favour—a blank cheque you’d signed many years ago that let him ask for anything, anytime. It wasn’t much, he’d said; all he wanted was for you to help his friend win custody of his kid. As a well-practiced attorney, it should’ve been easy as pie… if your clients hadn’t won your heart before you could win the case.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader, Oikawa Tooru & Reader
Comments: 51
Kudos: 575





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ty to my ko-fi commissioner ! it was between iwa and kuroo and i've never written a chapter fic for iwa before. had to change that and revive this idea i'd drafted in 2017. enjoy uwu

You had a lot of regrets in life. You regretted not having more fun as a kid, when life was a breeze and you didn’t know what taxes even were. You regretted not dating more people in high school, when it was easier to meet people and less consequential to be screwing around. You regretted missing out on opportunities and you regretted not being happier.

Most of all, you regretted setting your ringtone to _Crawling_ by Linkin Park as a joke, for you were very hungover, and very very annoyed.

“What?!” you answered peevishly, finally managing to wriggle over to your angrily vibrating phone that was close to committing a suicide dive off your tiny bedside table. You couldn’t help a small moan as you blinded yourself, fumbling in the midst of your pounding headache.

“Wow. Is that how you greet all your clients?”

“Oikawa?” you asked, startled by the Japanese. You did your best to fight the cottonmouth. Raising your head, you squinted blearily at your phone screen as you lifted it away from your face to check—it was something like 4 in the morning, for Christ’s sake. You repeated this fact to him verbally, as scathingly as you could, and he merely sighed.

“Did you forget that we live in different countries? You’re seventeen hours behind me.”

“Oh yeah,” you mumbled, rubbing your forehead. Had you taken off your make-up before bed? Probably not. “Fuck. Whatever, man. You could’ve had the decency to _check_ what time it was for me, and uh, _not called_.”

“Sorry, but I didn’t care,” he chimed back. “Are you drunk? You sound drunk.”

“Who’re you, my goddamn mom? But yes, I _was_ drunk, and now I’m hungover _because_ of the vodka. Cause and effect. Hey, what do you even want?”

“ _Vodka_? God, you’re a mess. I can’t believe you’re a lawyer.”

“Listen here,” you groaned, rolling back onto your side. “If you don’t have anything to say, I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay, okay! Wait!” he cried out hastily, making you wince. “I’m calling in The Favour!”

You paused. Suddenly awake and alert, you sat up slowly, ignoring the pulsations angrily beaming through your body.

“You’re calling in The Favour?” you repeated carefully. “Did I hear you right?”

“Yeah. I’m calling it in. I need your help.”

“Fuck me in the ass with shiny go-go boots,” you murmured, so stunned that you could think of nothing else to say. “You’re serious?! What’s wrong with you? Did you kill somebody? Because I’m not a criminal defence lawyer—”

“I know that,” Oikawa interjected, cutting you off with a rush of static that was a deep sigh. “I’m calling you because somehow, you’re the best divorce attorney I know.”

“You get married to a crazy bitch?” you guessed wryly. “I’ve seen a lot of them, so—”

“It’s not for me! Jesus, [Name], who do you think I am?”

“A manwhore,” you replied easily. “Manslut, man—”

“I’m still single,” he snapped, hurt, “for your information. But just listen to me for a minute, okay? This is actually important.”

This was better than a triple-espresso 5-hour energy cocktail and you were already on your feet, pacing the tiny LA flat. You dug a pen out from your drawers and found a pad of paper, resting against your desk in eager anticipation. What could be so important that the proud-and-mighty Tooru Oikawa had to call in The Favour?

“I’m listening.”

“I need you to help my friend keep custody of his kid.”

Your pen bled a neat little blue dot into the paper as you frowned.

“That’s… it? Not saying that custody cases aren’t important or anything, but I was really expecting something… _bigger_ from you. It’s The Favour after all.”

The Favour—a promise between you and Tooru. A blank cheque that could be cashed in at any time, for any _thing_ , no strings attached. You’d expected him to ask you to shoot somebody down or steal the H from the Hollywood sign, but never had you thought that he might ask you to do him a favour for the sake of somebody _else_. Especially not The Favour.

“If calling in The Favour gets you to say yes, then I’ll do it. He’s my best friend, and he means a lot to me. I need to do everything I can for him.”

“He your boyfriend?” you asked, more curious now that you were starting to sense Oikawa’s sentimentality over the phone. He laughed gently.

“Nah. Just a really good friend. So will you do it? You kind of have to, y’know.”

“I… well, are you going to tell me anything else about this case?”

“No. You already took it.” You could see him smiling across the line and couldn't help a disgruntled sigh.

“Fine. I’ll be on the next flight to Sendai.”

“Thanks, [Name]. You’re the best.”

“I know I am. Isn’t that why you called me?”

After hanging up, you realized that you’d entirely forgotten to ask for the bare minimum—your client’s fucking name. You really _were_ a mess. Still, you had to start packing, and make enough time so that you didn’t smell like booze before you hit TSA.

Why was this guy so important to Oikawa? Why couldn’t he tell you more about the case? Was he afraid that it’d scare you off or something?

With a sigh, you turned away, not realizing that the events to come would be the best of your life—the kind that make you sit back on your deathbed and think, _I have no regrets_.

Except for your ringtone. You’d really have to change that.


	2. Chapter 2

After spending so much time in America, you had completely forgotten what home was like. The swarms of businessmen and women moving in synchronized chaos; the flashing neon advertisements in strikingly stylistic kanji; the clamour of teenagers as they barrelled down the streets in their school uniforms; the faint sweetness of air underneath the stench of smog—it didn’t take long for a nostalgic grin to settle on your face. 

“Welcome home,” Oikawa chirped, spying you exiting the gate with your carry-on in tow. He had a paper sign held up with your name spelt horribly wrong, winking when you turned your nose down on it. Stuffing it in his pocket, he extended his arms, and you hugged each other tightly.

“Long time no see,” you returned, taking another moment before letting go, beaming. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Aren’t I a sight for all eyes?” He laughed at his own joke. “Come on. My parking’s going to run out.”

You had left Japan after high school to attend an Ivy League university in the United States. Your student visa morphed into a work visa after your success in law had earned you the title of partner at one of the largest, prestigious firms in the States. You’d been living and working in sunny LA ever since. Of course, home was home, and you couldn’t help but be charmed by the miniature looking cars and infrastructure after the honking freeways of Uncle Sam’s big fat wonderland. 

Oikawa was an extremely close friend of yours through camp—the both of you had gone to the same summer camp from elementary through high school, and with that came a lifelong bond. The two of you had never gone to the same school together, but he was truly one of your best friends. 

“So? Are you finally going to tell me about this new case I have? I took all my vacation days off for this. I could be in Fiji right now instead.”

Oikawa hummed vaguely, pulling out onto the road. “Yeah, sorry. Hajime won’t be able to meet us until four.”

“Hajime’s the client?” you asked, already on your phone to deal with work e-mails. Multi-tasking was one of your strong suits, so you had one ear on Oikawa as your thumbs typed out a response.

“Yeah. Iwaizumi Hajime. He was my best friend since elementary—don’t you remember? I talked about him all the time.”

“Sorry. I was busy being successful and everything. It must have slipped my mind.”

Truthfully, you remembered very little from back then, other than your physical memories with Oikawa and childhood home. You’d have to meet up with your parents, too. A bit of guilt hit you in the gut for forgetting about them. You’d been so occupied with work that you hardly called; and now that you were back home, you hadn’t even remembered to give them a heads up that you were coming. Queuing the thought, you hoped that you’d remember to call by the end of the day.

“How long are you staying for?” Oikawa asked, shooting you a look. You counted in your head, visualizing your calendar.

“Five days. I’m pretty sure that’s all I need to win this case for Ha-whatever guy.”

“Hajime. Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Hey, why’d you cash in The Favour for this guy? You never answered me about that.” You finally spared a moment to peek up at him. He shrugged lightly, driving with one hand on the wheel.

“I told you. He’s my best friend. I’m going to do everything I can to help him out.”

“You could’ve used The Favour for anything else, but you used it for somebody else? Damn, Oikawa. You’ve changed.”

“Haven’t we all?” he replied, a cryptic tone softening his words. 

You didn’t think _you_ had. You were very much the same cocky over-achiever from your childhood. You had always been a bit coarse, and sometimes you were downright _insufferable_ , but that was okay because you always won in the end. 

Right?

\---

It was already a bit after four when the doorbell went, despite the promise that he’d be here by four o’clock sharp. You didn’t much mind tardiness. Hell, you were always late yourself—but at least you were ‘fashionably’ late. Everybody else was just early.

You stayed in the living room, pounding on your Macbook’s keys as Oikawa went to open the door. He hadn’t exactly been illuminating on who Hajime Iwaizumi was, only describing him as his ‘best friend’. You didn’t care about that ooey-gooey shit. Hajime could’ve been a KGB sleeper agent for all you cared, and you’d certainly dealt with worse clients before. You just wanted to know what fuck-up you had to fix. Apparently, it was too touchy for Oikawa to repeat, so you had to wait to hear it straight from him. Fine, whatever.

Your ears perked up when they detected movement all the way in the front lobby. Oikawa had gotten himself a pretty swanky apartment in downtown Sendai, what with his freakishly good looks driving his successful sports performance. He’d made a killing in the Argentine league but was already back in Japan to re-enter native waters. You’d asked why he hadn’t just picked up and moved to Tokyo, seeing as he had the money for it, but Oikawa was a corny kind of guy and couldn’t stray from home for long. His place was gigantic, and even if you looked, you wouldn’t be able to see his guests until they entered the next room. Their voices were muffled, and you paid them little mind until you heard a toddler squeal. Unless your client Hajime screamed like a little girl, there was a fucking _child_ out there.

You slammed your laptop shut and rose to your feet uneasily. Oikawa had returned, his mouth open to introduce you before you cut him off sharply.

“Did he bring a fucking kid?” you hissed, eyes wide with panic.

“Well… yeah. He had to pick Koko up from daycare.”

“No. I—no, I don’t do kids.”

“You’re a _divorce lawyer_. Don’t you deal with kids all the time?” Oikawa asked, apparently surprised with your behaviour. Shakily, you clutched your shoulders as you crossed your arms defensively.

“I deal with them on _paper_. That’s different. I always tell my clients not to bring their kids!”

“Uh, okay. Sorry, but you’re just going to have to deal with it, ‘cause they’re already here.”

“Wait—Tooru! Can’t you just keep her in another room, or—”

“Hey, what’s going on?”

The addition of a new voice scared you and you whirled around, hand over your heart as you faced a man you had never seen before. He was tall, with tan skin, dark hair, light eyes, and overall attractive features. He looked like a slightly above-average guy in his early thirties, wearing a black windbreaker slung over a suit top. His build was similar to Oikawa’s. You looked down, seeing a miniature face stare right back up at you. Your heart raced coldly.

“I’m Iwaizumi Hajime. You must be [Surname] [Name]. Oikawa’s told me a lot about you.” He cracked a smile, pre-mature crow’s feet tracing his eyes as he reached a hand out. You didn’t take it, your eyes still glued to the girl. She had lopsided buns in her hair with one completely fallen out, turned into a spiralling ribbon of a ponytail. She said nothing, her brown eyes wide and face flat as she kept staring at you.

Noticing your silence, Iwaizumi’s hand dropped awkwardly. He crouched to the girl’s height, protectively squeezing her shoulders as he nodded his head up to you.

“This is my daughter. Kokoro, say ‘hi’ to [Surname]-san.”

You were no clairvoyant, and you hardly bothered to think about what was going to happen next in your everyday life. It was probably how you got away with such risky courtroom tactics, and how you always ended up with bad hangovers—you never really seemed to learn from your mistakes. You only live once. Don’t overthink it. So, there was nobody on this planet that could’ve told you what was going to happen next here. And, if somebody had, you would’ve just laughed in their face, for there was _no fucking way_ that you were going to end up falling in love with your stupid ass client and his stupid ass kid.

…right?


	3. Chapter 3

Well, this is awkward.

Either Oikawa lacked social cues, or he just enjoyed your torment—the latter was far more probable. In any case he did nothing to help remove the child from your vicinity, leaving the room entirely. You couldn’t just tell your client to boot his offspring somewhere out of sight while you discussed legal processions, so you just had to swallow your pride and… co-exist.

“Daddy, can I play on your phone?”

“Just for a bit while I talk to [Surname]-san.”

You watched him pass a busted looking smartphone over. With quiet, trained obedience, she took it and walked to the couch opposite you. Your muscles tensed reflexively, but you tried not to actively flinch or lean away. The girl hopped up, her little feet swinging as she immersed herself into some game.

“Koko’s getting big,” Oikawa commented fondly when he returned _(fuck you, bastard!)_ , shrugging a coat on. “Anyways. You two have fun.”

“What? Where’re you going?” you asked, bewildered as to why he was suddenly dipping.

“If you actually listened to me, you’d remember I have training. Bye, kids!” He walked over and gave the girl a kiss on her forehead, which gave her a big smile on her weirdly small face. Of course, you were already accustomed to working with clients one-on-one, but this hadn’t included important mutual friends with their kid hanging out a few metres away from you before.

“Hey, uh; I’m really grateful you’re taking my case.”

Iwaizumi whipped your attention back from the stratosphere as he coughed shyly, sitting beside his daughter to be across from you. You nodded distantly, unsure of what to reply with. 

“Couldn’t really afford much, and Oikawa said he knew a good lawyer that’d take on a favour, so… yeah. Thank you. Seriously.”

“I don’t usually do pro bonos, but I guess he told you about our whole Favour thing, right?” You cleared your throat, your Japanese rusty after speaking nothing but English for so long. “Anyways. I guess we can get started. Is it okay for, uh… her…” You gestured vaguely in that general direction. “To listen in? We might talk about some sensitive material. Stuff that might be upsetting.”

“What d’you think, kiddo?” he asked softly, palming a huge hand through her hair, disrupting her already messy pig-tails. “D’you wanna go wait in another room?”

“Can I stay here with you?” She turned her big eyes to her father, giving you relief as she ignored you completely.

“Can she, [Surname]-san?”

“Uh, [Name]’s fine while we’re working together. And. Yeah, that’s all good.” There was no excuse for you to be like ‘no, it isn’t!’, so you just had to take it in the teeth. Iwaizumi smiled, and you hated yourself for staring at the way it lifted the contours of his attractive face.

“Hajime for me ’s all right.”

“Y’know, I find it funny that Tooru still calls you ‘Iwa-chan’,” you mentioned wryly to start conversation, re-opening your laptop to load your files. He rolled his eyes. You couldn’t help but wonder what colour they were, beautifully iridescent, shifting between greens and browns. 

“Yeah, that guy’s always gonna be the way he is. He never changes. What can you do?”

“Mm. People don’t change.”

“Really? You think so?”

His tone was neutral, but you knew accusation when you heard it. You lifted your eyes to find him already looking at you.

“I mean… human nature’s pretty nasty. No matter what a person says they’re always going to do the same old stuff they’re used to doing. Even if it hurts others.”

“That’s a sad way of thinking.”

“I take it you’re the kind of humanitarian that believes in second chances?” you asked wryly. “What’re you doing with a divorce lawyer, then?”

If it was a paying client, you wouldn’t even dare to say this in front of them—but you figure Oikawa’s friend could take a few jibes in return for free labour. Satisfying your assumption, he merely rolled his shoulder, not looking offended.

“Didn’t say we don’t make mistakes. Koko’s… she’s my everything.” His eyes were glazing over fondly as he ran his hand down his daughter’s back. “My w—ex-wife. She’s demanding full custody. And I—”

“Which brings us to the important stuff,” you interrupted, work mode kicking in. “What’re you looking for in child custody? Joint?”

“Full.” His expression darkened as he glared down at his knees. “I’m not letting her stay with that woman for even a day.”

“Oh. Okay.” You noted it on your laptop. You saw him move in your peripheral, the anxiety radiating off of him in waves.

“Is that too much to ask…?”

“Nope,” you murmured distractedly, trained fingers opening up tabs upon tabs of paperwork. “Whatever the client wants, the client gets.”

“What do _you_ think, though? Not as my lawyer, but just as yourself.”

Great. Personal questions—another no-no that you hated. Hajime was really just winding you up, wasn’t he? With a deep sigh, you looked up over your screen, meeting his tightened expression.

“Honestly? I’m not good with kids. I just don’t get it... so sorry. I can’t say anything you want to hear. But if you want full custody of your child, I’m getting you full custody of your child.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, but you could tell it was mostly for himself. “Yeah, okay.”

“Name of your ex-wife?”

“Uh.” He told you, awkwardly, the way some clients can be. Others spat the name out vehemently. Others cried it out, weeping an ugly cry. He seemed to be more of the good guy type. You punched it in.

“D’you know if she’s got legal counsel?”

“Last I heard, it was like… Kogami Etsu-Atsuko or something.”

Your fingers froze and your neck creaked as you looked up, jaw slack.

“Kogami Atsuko. You’re sure?”

“I dunno, that’s just what I heard.” He looked bewildered. “Why?”

“Kogami Atsuko from Kogami and Gold. _The_ leading divorce lawyer in the _world_?!”

“I thought _you_ were, from what Oikawa was saying.”

“I’m not the top fuc—fudging lawyer in the world! Like, I’m good, but… who the hel—heck was your ex-wife?!”

“Exactly what you’re thinking of,” he muttered bitterly, avoiding his gaze with shame. You sucked in a sharp, deep breath, tucking it under your diaphragm. Holy shit. Holy _shit. Fucking. Balls_. Kogami Atsuko was your _idol_. Even as a Japanese woman, aka a minority, she _killed_ the male-dominated courts of law. She opened her own practice before she was 30. She paved the way for female attorneys. You were going up against her.

“Yeah. That’s why I figured I’d thank you early… sorry.”

“I see that now,” you replied stiffly. You raked your fingers through your oily hair, already feeling the workload stress settling in. “Okay. Well. No biggie… I’ll just do everything like I’ve always done.”

“I don’t mean to pressure you more; I really don’t. But this means everything to me. So… I guess I’m just asking you to give it your all, [Name]-san. Please. For Kokoro.” 

When you looked at him he was bowing. His daughter, having noticed his prostration after hearing her name, had bowed her head towards you as well. You couldn’t really handle the sudden open display of borderline begging and waved your hands awkwardly.

“Don’t worry about it. I’d never do anything but my best work.” 

He raised his head, and he was smiling. “You’re a good woman, [Name].”

The compliment flooded you with a greater high than cheap vodka shots ever could. You heard it a million times— _great work_ , etc etc. Through law school and work, you’d gotten nothing but praise. But from him, a guy you’d only just met, it had… gravity. You had to bite down your grin and hide behind your laptop screen.

“I mean, I _am_ pretty good at my job. You’re in capable hands.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

You refused to make eye contact with him again, because if you did, you really might lose it. Instead, you tapped on the coffee table between the two of you.

“License?”

And so, you got to work, representing Iwaizumi Hajime—your unbelievably, fucking fantastically amazingly hot client.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey, [Surname].”

“Hm…”

“Have you seriously been working all this time?”

You peeled your eyes away from the laptop, not realizing that you were being spoken to, only having replied out of instinct. Iwaizumi looked down at you concernedly, and you realized it was suddenly night time.

You had been a bit surprised to learn that Iwaizumi lived with Oikawa, along with his daughter, but you also supposed that when you’re friends for that long you’re basically brothers anyways. Oikawa’s swanky place was big enough for all of you, regardless, so it wasn’t a problem. Oikawa had weird hours with the volleyball league, so you couldn’t base anything off of his comings-and-goings; therefore, Iwaizumi had probably just come home from picking his daughter up, so it was about six. He had a sharp white button up on and—you swallowed instinctively—a loosened blue tie, dangling tantalizingly close to his belt. You looked back to your screen sharply.

“Yeah, of course I have. What else would I be doing?”

“You ought to take a break,” he continued in that same wary ‘Dad’ tone. “It’s not good for you to be hunched over, staring at a screen all day.”

“It’s your case that I’m working on,” you replied, almost alarmed. Wouldn’t he want you to put everything you had into this? “I’ll take a break once everything’s done.” Realizing that he might actually be a nice guy asking after your wellbeing, you added, “don’t worry about me. I’ve pulled all-nighters my entire career. This is nothing.”

“What good are you to us if you refuse to take care of your health?”

You spared him another glance, your fingers slowing slightly over the keys. “I said I’m good, Hajime.”

He reached forwards and tilted the screen of your Mac shut, only just giving you enough time to withdraw your fingers before he crushed them. You stared down at the Apple logo dumbfoundedly.

“What are you doing?” you demanded, about to open your computer again before he put his hand back down on the surface, stopping you.

“We’re going to go for drinks,” he declared matter-of-factly. “You need to unwind. And eat. Have you had a proper meal today?”

“I think I had a granola bar in the morning,” you argued feebly, but being trained in law, you were fairly certain you wouldn’t be winning this debate. Deflating, you sighed. “Fine… I’ll get my shoes.”

He grinned. “That’s more like it.”

\---

He settled his daughter to bed and took you out to a place a few blocks from Oikawa’s apartment. It was a cheap all you can eat, all you can drink type of deal. Salary men sat shoulder to shoulder, smoking and drinking. You didn’t have any real complaints since you didn’t plan on going out to eat in the first place. It wouldn’t have been your first choice by far. But the calming sizzle of the charcoal grill and musky smoke in the air paired with raucous crowd noise really gave everything a classic Japanese izakaya feel. It made you kind of tense to be packed in so tightly with evrybody, but sitting across from Iwaizumi made you feel a little more at ease.

“What do you mean you don’t drink beer?!”

You turned your nose down at his horrified expression, sipping at your sake. “Don’t like it. It’s cheap.”

Hajime scoffed, throwing back half the mug of his golden elixir before swiping a mustache of foam off his top lip. “Damn. You rich people are all so uncultured. I bet you just sip on your little champagne flutes, huh.”

You rolled your eyes, flipping the meat with tongs before it could burn. “Sorry my blood is too rich for you.” He was right, though—somewhere along the way you’d gotten used to thousand-dollar bottled wine, and cans of Asahi just weren’t the same anymore. It was just the package deal that comes with being a cleaner-upper in messy, big fish arenas. Despite your differences, you and Hajime struck up easy conversation, warmed by the liquor. 

“Well. I am really thankful to you. Me and Koko. She’s shy, so that’s why she doesn’t talk much in front of you. But she does like you, I promise.”

“Mm.” Great. More shtick about the kid. Afraid that he’d veer off into sentimental small talk, you mentioned loudly, “you don’t have to tell me about your history or anything. I do my job with or without the sob story.”

“You think I have a sob story?” he asked wryly, scooping fatty pork onto his plate. “Not especially. But every time I talk about Koko, you get this weird look. You curious about the name or something?”

“I—well.” How embarrassing was it to be a professional lawyer, only to have your body language so easily be read by a civilian? Flushed, you obscured your mouth with your bowl. “I guess I was interested in it…”

“My ex wanted a ‘unique’ name. I thought it was weird to name her after a body part too. But y’know… it was the right call, for once, coming from her. Kokoro’s my whole world. She’s got all my heart. So that’s why…” He put his dish down. “I guess I’m really glad you followed the path you did and knew the same guy I did. We’re real lucky. I owe a lot to you and fate and prayer.” His hazel eyes shone fondly in the low lamplight. You almost wanted to throw your drink at him. What part of ‘don’t tell me your sob story’ did he miss? You hated getting caught up in your clients’ dirty business. You weren’t here to gossip or make friends—you just wanted to do your job, and here he was, shitting all over it by making you _feel things_.

But maybe you were annoyed for another reason. Pissed that here you and he were: two people in their late twenties; two grown ass people. And he had found his whole purpose for living in his child. You could practically feel it radiating off of him, this _warm glow of love_. And what about you? What did you have going for you despite being the same age as him? He shined your shoes so casually, but weren’t you just doing this job for selfish reasons of your own, reasons that don’t involve making sure this man can smile with his daughter in peace? He’s so much more put together. He’s got so much more than you, and you can’t even begin to understand that love. He’s Iwaizumi Hajime, and you’re just a jealous kid.

“See? Told you that you were hungry,” he commented amusedly as you wolfed down on your food to drown out your wallowing. You chewed disgruntledly, averting your gaze so that you wouldn’t get lost in the kindness of his adoringly endless eyes.

“Whatever.”


	5. Chapter 5

“I have a favour to ask of you.”

Once again, you blinked yourself out of the fog of case work and looked up from your laptop, squinting blearily. Iwaizumi stood in front of you, and beside him was—you blinked and rubbed your eyes. Iwaizumi Kokoro, staring down at her feet.

“What?” you asked hesitantly, though it was pretty obvious where this was going.

“Oikawa’s out, I’m on call, and I don’t have the time to find a baby sitter. Can you watch her?”

“Can I w—!? Uh, I mean…” What could you say to him? ‘No’? The two of you were going to be stuck in the same apartment regardless, and it’d be such an asshole move of you to let your fear of children get the better of you. Begrudgingly, you sighed. “Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks, [Name]—life saver. See you later, Koko. Love you.” He kissed her on the forehead before quickly turning tail. In no time at all the front door opened and slammed shut, and you were left in charge. Busy guy.

“So…” You closed the lid of your laptop reluctantly, lacing your fingers together. How do you talk to kids? You only know how to deal with rich people who are, as expected, entitled, spoiled brats. As much as you hate—well, strongly dislike—kids, this girl didn’t seem too bad. She was at least quiet and obedient, unlike some of your other clients’ monkey demons. But she seemed shy, playing with the hem of her sweater as she avoided eye contact. At least the two of you were in the same boat.

“Can I call you Kokoro?” you asked, hating the awkwardness. She nodded and looked up. She’d inherited almost every gene from her father, looking just like a carbon copy Iwa-chan—your heart faltered when her wide emeraldine eyes gleamed the same way Iwaizumi’s did whenever he looked at you.

“[Surname]-san…”

“Oh,” you interrupted, already uncomfortable with the formality. “You can just call me [Name].”

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice soft and high pitched. “Daddy told me that it’s rude.”

“It’s okay. I give you permission to not use honourifics. It’s easier, isn’t it?”

“Okay.” You noticed that she was smiling, keeping it to herself. Maybe she wasn’t used to addressing adults without a -san on the end? You remembered that at her age, you’d been so used to seeing your mother’s clients that it was hard to address your classmates casually. People had even made fun of you for it.

You’re pretty predictable about this, really. It’s an easy case file to read. Divorced parents, only child. Workaholic mother (also an accredited divorce lawyer). This leads to that, and now you have trust issues and a fear of other children due to early maturation. Denouement and fín. The Iwaizumi case was really something out of your comfort zone—hell, this zone was three and a half worlds away from your comfort zone. You’d have turned it down if not for the Favour. But you sucked it all down and locked it away, knowing you owed it to this kid to at least be interesting enough as not to bore her for the whole night. After all, you never got the same luxury of being taken out with sitters, always spending your nights after school in your room reading books.

“D’you like ice cream?” you asked, still stiff in the way you spoke to her. Her body tensed and then she looked away guiltily. Oh, thank God for the easy jury read.

“Daddy usually doesn’t let me have sweets at night…”

“Well, your dad’s not here right now. Let’s go. I saw a parlor on Google maps that’s down the road. I think it’s still open.”

“Really?” She perked up excitedly, her whole demeanour changing in a snap. Suddenly she was a ball of energy, the way kids should be. Your shouldered released a fraction of tension.

“Just don’t tell him, okay? It’ll be our secret.”

“Okay!” she beamed. You wondered if she was already used to sneaking around her father’s back with Oikawa. He seemed like the type of godfather to spoil endlessly. 

“Can you put your shoes and jacket on?”

“Okay.” The pure, innocent positivity that radiated from her made your face soften as she raced to the front room. You sighed and got to your feet. You’re a respectable attorney that graduate summa cum laude from an Ivy League law school. Baby-sitting is a piece of cake!

(You say to yourself, mentally shitting your stupid shitty shit-filled mental pants.)

\---

“What do you want, kiddo?”

 _Kiddo_ —you were just mimicking the way Iwaizumi spoke to her. This was probably the most you’ve conversed with somebody under the age of 16 in years. She looked up at the bright menu, pursing her pink lips thoughtfully. Damn, kids have nice skin. It was radiant and flawless. What do they even need that for? _You_ need it more, what with all the one nighters you pull for work.

“I dunno,” she replied, cocking her head. The menu did span two walls, and it was a lot of choices. 

“Do you want me to pick something for you?” 

“Yes please, [Name].” She smiled, the grin toothy, and you looked away sharply. Your eyes scanned the boards.

“Uh. How about chocolate, then? You can’t go wrong with that.”

“Okay.”

“Besides,” you said absent-mindedly as you handed money over to the cashier (you’ve forgotten how cash-based Japan is and awkwardly tucked your card back into your wallet). “Cocoa and Koko sound the same. It’s kind of your thing.”

“ _Cocoa_?” she repeated, struggling up into her chair as the two of you walked to a table. Her feet swung in rhythm. 

“It’s the English word for chocolate.”

“Oh,” she replied, eyes wide. “Cocoa-ro?”

“Yeah.”

“Eh… Daddy never told me that. He always says I shouldn’t eat too much chocolate.”

“Like I said, you’re with me, not your dad. Eat as much as you like before you get lactose intolerance.”

“L… Lick toes…”

“Lactose,” you corrected, but not before choking down a laugh. “It’s when your sto… your tummy hurts after you drink milk.”

“No way. Is that why Daddy doesn’t drink milk in the morning like me?”

“Probably, yeah.”

“You’re really smart, [Name].” 

You’ve heard that a lot. From all your classmates, faker than their handbags, wishing you congratulations while disrespecting your name behind their backs. From your mother, who only seemed to notice you when you brought home a medal and never again. From this little kid you barely knew, it warmed your heart so much that your ice cream seems to melt a little too fast.

“Careful,” you said, tucking a spoon into your mouth to hide your grin. “You’ve got poo teeth.”

“Poo teeth?!”

“Yeah, your teeth are all poo-y. Here, drink some of my water and swish your mouth.”

“You have poo teeth too.”

“I do _not_.”

She giggled, the laugh high and comforting. “Yes you do!”

And as the two of you shared your ice cream, out on this little girl’s date… you figure maybe not all kids are that bad after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABT COURT OR DIVORCE SO PLS DON'T (prosecute) ME JUST.. SIT BACK AND ACCEPT SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF FOR DRAMATIC PURPOSES OTL

A couple days passed, and it was finally the big occasion. You’d been working tirelessly to build your case, but Iwaizumi was a constant pain in the ass, always dragging you out for drinks or to bed. Though after a while, you found that you didn’t really mind so much, and actually started looking forwards to these breaks. Koko had also grown on you, reserving the special status as the first kid you don’t hate. Suddenly you found yourself unable to say no to her, agreeing to read her books and teach her about fractions even though you hate math with a burning passion. It actually feels like you’ve become an entirely different person within the span of a short week. You’d never felt this way around a client before. But you quickly wrote it off as spare sentimentality for home and moved on without thinking much of it. After all, you’d already booked your flight back to LA, and after this… you’d never be seeing him again.

“Nervous, Hajime?” you asked as you looked over to the man sitting beside you. He blinked and glanced up, his bouncing knee freezing in place.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… a lot rides on today’s result.”

“What’d I say?” you teased, though it was gentle. You reached over and knocked him in the arm lightly, the way he liked to do to you. “You’ve got me as counsel.”

“Right.” His shoulders relaxed, and he carded a palm back through his hair, mussing up the thick spikes of gel. You hadn’t actually seen him with his hair done before. Before you could stare, you tried to look somewhere else, before noticing his blue tie had begun to slip out of its clip.

“Your tie’s a bit crooked.” Your hands moved of their own accord and you smoothed the silky fabric beneath your fingers, aligning it with his sternum. You could feel his firm musculature beneath your palms, and although you would’ve liked nothing more than to linger, you pulled your hands back.

“Thanks, [Name]. For everything.”

“Court hasn’t even started.”

“I know, but—thanks. Really.”

“You’re a good guy,” you mused aloud, looking to the clipboard in your lap so that you wouldn’t have to stare into his endless eyes. You inhaled resolutely before flashing him a reassuring smile. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

And then let’s say goodbye.

\---

The infamous ex had wrapped her face up in some gaudy expensive scarf and designer sunglasses. You might’ve asked Iwaizumi what the hell he was on hooking up with somebody like that if you weren’t currently representing him as a client. There was mutter and chatter all along the gallery as you walked to your seats. Like a creepy fangirl, you tried not to stare at Atsuko Kougami. She was amazingly glamorous but in a classic, timeless way, copper ringlets shifting on her shoulder as she nodded in your direction.

“[Surname]’s daughter, huh,” she commented neutrally, her brown eyes flicking over you. Pursing her red lips, she shot you a wry grin. “Let’s see if you compare.”

“Yes ma’am.”

It was one thing to be acknowledged by one of the best lawyers in the field, but another to be compared to your mother. You hid your face of disgust, but it apparently wasn’t done very well when you felt a broad hand squeeze your arm. Jumping, you turned to your side.

“You’ve got this,” Iwaizumi muttered under his breath to you. “Don’t let her throw you off.”

“I know I do,” you snapped back, but you were glad to hear it. It bloomed and blossomed in your chest with a warmth you’d never had before. Support from somebody you—daresay—cared about? Damn. You felt like you could take on the world.

Proceedings went as usual. The judge today was similar to other ones you’d won over and there didn’t seem to be any surprises. You had never actually practiced in Japanese court before, but it was all going quite swell, until shit hit the fan at turbo speeds.

“The child isn’t even his child,” Atsuko commented dryly, her eyes sliding over to you condescendingly as she procured a set of important looking papers. “So there really isn’t a case here.”

_Is this the fucking Maury show?!_


	7. Chapter 7

“Hajim—”

“What the _hell_?! What the _fuck_!”

“All right _Chad_ , I get it. Stop making a damn scene!” You grabbed his fist before he could sink it into the courthouse’s walls. He finally seemed to snap out of his angry stupor and glowered at you with enough force to wilt an entire sunflower field. You withstood it.

“ _What_?”

“Just—I dunno, calm down, for God’s sake. Breathe.”

“How can I?” he seethed, but he listened and reluctantly shut his mouth. After Atsuko’s dramatic submission of evidence, the judge had disgruntledly called for recess, leaving a lot of people tittering excitedly about the sudden disturbance of events. Most civil law cases aren’t as theatrical as criminal ones, after all. You hadn’t realized that this was apparently a celebrity case, but you could see people looking around in halls, curiously trying to catch a glimpse of your client. Better to not let them see this side of him. You squeezed your hand around his, realizing that you hadn’t let go yet.

“Let’s go somewhere else.”

Once the two of you ducked into a private room, Iwaizumi slumped into one of the chairs, his head falling forwards into his hands. You tried not to sigh as you sat next to him. You couldn’t say that you weren’t expecting a curveball—these kinds of cases require you to keep an eye out for left fielders. But you didn’t expect to be nailed in the back of the skull by the bat itself.

“What a bitch,” you murmured soothingly, placing your hand on his shoulder. He raised his head, his expression so heart-achingly exhausted that you wanted to pull him in for a hug—but you resisted the urge, letting your strength flow to him through your tentative palm instead.

“…yeah. What a bitch.” He snorted before giving you a wary look. “Are you allowed to say that, though? Is there a policy against that or something?”

“Don’t fuckin’ know, don’t fuckin’ care. Bitches get stitches.” Humour as a coping mechanism was a cheap cop out, though, and you frowned. Your tone softened. “…I’m sorry, by the way.”

“Well… what can you do? I guess it was too good to be true.” Bitterly, he gnawed on his lip, staring forward at the desk. “I just don’t know what to tell Koko.”

“What do you mean, _it was too good to be true_?” Sudden anger pierced your concern and you were on your feet, leaning forwards, hand wrenching at his collar. “Why the fuck are you talking like you’ve given up?!”

“I—what are _you_ saying?” He gaped up at you limply. “That woman said it herself—there’s no case here. I’m not her father…”

“Oh. Right.” You let go before you strangled the life out of him, fists trembling at your sides. “You’re not her father. So all that was just talk. She’s not your ‘heart’ anymore? Everything I’ve seen between the two of you— _felt_ between you—that was just talk?” Your hand was splayed over your own heart as you glared down at him. “Just because she doesn’t have your blood doesn’t mean she’s not _your_ kid. If you’re her dad, you better act like it. We aren’t losing this case because of whiny bullshit.”

You didn’t exactly know why you were so emotional yourself, so there was no way you could’ve answered that if he asked. Maybe it was a sort of jealousy; a passing wish that when you were younger and lonely you had a father like him to make you smile every day. Maybe it was an obligation to Kokoro, who you adored immensely. Maybe it was because you cared about Iwaizumi Hajime himself and could never forgive yourself for seeing him look so sad. 

“But…” He looked to be at a complete loss for words, staring up at you stupidly as you heaved for breath. You’d never blown up in front of a client like that before. You’d lost a couple of cases before, of course—nobody’s perfect, though you come pretty damn close—and yet, you’d never really cared that much about what you were fighting for. Alimony and pre-nup—boo hoo. It’s all money in your pocket at the end of the day. The unhappier people are, the more you bank. True love? Your track record says otherwise.

But Kokoro wasn’t just something to be tossed around between exes. Kids aren’t just names on paper anymore. Not this one, at least. Koko was your friend… you hoped. You weren’t going to roll over and take this shit without a fight. 

“We’re going to summon her as a witness.” The gears were turning in your head. The more you talked, the better you felt. It was all coming together and you might actually turn this disaster around. But Iwaizumi’s brow knit together with concern.

“You mean you want her to sit up there in front of everybody and have them tell her I’m not her dad? Are you insane?!”

“Insane? Yes. Stupid? No.” You placed your palms on the table, leaning into him, forcing him to scoot backwards into his chair. Unable to help yourself, you grinned. “This is going to work. But you have to have faith in yourself and your kid. And me. Can you do that for once in your bitch ass life?”

He exhaled shakily; you smelt mint on the fragile breath. Only then did you realize just how close you’d stuck your face near his. Just an inch more and you could kiss him. But then he was grinning back up at you wryly, crow’s feet tracing the edges of sharp eyes.

“I’ve never once lost faith in you, [Name].”

“Oh.” Startled by how easily he acquiesced, you leant back almost sheepishly. “Okay then. Let’s do this.”

He reached out, and you realized it was in a handshake. The very first time you’d met, you’d done something like this, right? Carefully, you took it, allowing his firm hand to wrap around yours and bounce, sealing the deal. It was heavier than before. Warmer.

“Let’s do this.”

\---

Poor girl. She was holding back sobs of distress while sitting in the chair, the bailiff struggling to adjust the mic low enough for her. You could feel all the eyes of the world searing into your back: the dastardly villain who had summoned a little girl into a steaming courtroom burning with hellfire. But your breath wasn’t even shaky. You could do this.

After all, there wasn’t any other option than to win.

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Um… I-Iwaizumi Kokoro…” Her voice, amplified, broke as it echoed through the room. She visibly winced and flinched backwards. You could only imagine how torn up Iwaizumi was feeling behind you. If it weren’t for the laws of this land, you would’ve _throttled_ this bitch of a so-called mother for making her daughter go through this. Not only was she a _cheater_ , she insisted on wringing every drop out of Hajim—uh, your client’s accounts, as if she even needed it. It was clear that her sin was greed, and she reeked of it.

“Hi, honey,” you reassured, making sure to smile. She looked back at you tearfully. “It’s okay. You’re doing great.”

“Objection—irrelevant.”

You looked over to Atsuko, eyebrow raised to ask, _really?_. She made a flat expression back. No wonder she was called a cutthroat. She took no prisoners.

“Sustained,” the judge sighed, peering over her glasses at you. “Get on with it, [Surname]-san.”

“I just have one question for our cross examination.” You walked up to the witness stand confidently. You knew this kid. Her eyes were wide, swimming with it—desperation. _Not to worry, Koko. You’re the only teammate I’d ever want for this fight._ Promptly, you threw her the line. “Can you point to your dad for me, please?”

“Objection—that is _obviously_ a leading question and calls for speculation!”

“I’m simply asking her to identify where her father is,” you retorted coldly. The judge thought for a moment before nodding at you.

“Overruled. I am curious to see.”

Kokoro nodded nervously and then raised her hand. It was a clear line directly past you. Perfect aim.

“For the record, can you state the name of the man that you’re pointing to?”

“Um, my dad…? Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“Is there anybody else you consider to be your father?” you pressed gently.

“No?”

“What about your godfather: Oikawa Tooru?”

“He’s like a big brother,” she replied shyly, gaining more confidence as her attention focused away from the attentive crowd to you. You laughed internally. He’d be devastated to know he just got bro-zoned by his precious goddaughter.

“So, just to clarify—the only person in the whole wide world that you think of as your father is the client, Iwaizumi Hajime?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled. In the corner of your eye, the jury was smiling, too. She had won them over the same way she’d won you. And in this way, she’d just won your case. You went back to your desk.

“Your witness.”

\---

You were pretty sure Iwaizumi was dropping a fat one in his pants next to you when everybody rose for the verdict. He’d never looked so scared. You were a bit nervous, yourself—this was the first case you’d ever stuck your neck out and hedged your bets on before. But the judge’s grating voice was music to your ears: custody awarded to the father with weekend privileges to the mother. There was more legal drawl, but end of story: you won.

Happily, you shot a dirty look over to the ex who was whispering angrily through her silk scarf to Atsuko, dutifully ignoring her client as she packed up her briefcase. She glanced over to you, apparently noticing, leaving a hot sting across your cheeks when she walked over. To your surprise, she bowed to you.

“That was a good performance, [Surname]-san. I’m happy to see you’re following well in your mother’s footsteps.”

“I’m not following in anybody’s footsteps, Kogami-san. I’m making my own path. But thank you.” You reached out for a handshake. She eyed it before nodding with a dry smirk, shaking your hand firmly. Then she left, hissing ex in tow. You ignored the pitiful glare she gave you.

“Jesus Christ,” Iwaizumi exclaimed, sinking back into his chair. “Jesus. _Christ_.”

“C’mon, Hajime. We’ve got to clear out for the next case.” You nudged his foot, though the dazed expression on his attractive face could take some time for admiring. He was like fine art. Ah—you had to physically shake your head to regain your senses. “A-also, Koko’s waiting for you.”

He looked up at you, eyes full of wonder. They were a bit misty. Was he seriously going to cry right now?

“I’m sorry,” you admitted, grabbing his elbow to haul him to his feet as the next attorney using your seat cleared his throat irritably. He followed behind you clumsily, being led along like a kid.

“What for?”

“I told you that you’d get full custody, but in the end, weekends go to that bi—er, your ex.”

“What? No.” He slowed to a stop in the aisle, looking over you closely. “I couldn’t ask for anything more than this. Koko can make her own decisions about her mother, but as long as I have custody… _thank_ you, [Name].”

“God—I told you, you don’t have to thank me. Quit bowing in front of everybody.”

“I’m so happy I could kiss you,” he abruptly sighed, straightening his back. Your heart jittered. But then you noticed he was laughing and hastily conjured up a laugh of your own.

“Yeah, okay. I’d prefer a beer over that.”

Those were lies. You hated beer, and also…

“Sure thing. It’s on me. We’re celebrating!” 

Just like that, the case was over. It was bittersweet, despite this happy ending, and your smile was quick to fall as Iwaizumi pulled away to hug Koko, who came barrelling forwards. Your expiry date with the Iwaizumis was fast approaching, and you never thought you’d miss somebody before they were even gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again i dunno a single thing abt court bcs all i do is play ace attorney so do NOT comment anything abt that :prayerhands:


	8. Chapter 8

“Sorry I couldn’t take you out to a real dinner tonight, but you know Oikawa…” He trailed off meaningfully, his expression apologetic.

“Gotta be proud of him,” you mused, accepting the bottle he handed over, ice cold from the fridge. Oikawa was out for a volleyball event, meaning Kokoro would be home without a sitter. Especially since she’d had such a stressful day, the two of you decided to skip out of an izakaya and order in at home. “He’s blazing through the J-Leagues. I should ask him for an autograph so I can sell it online or something.”

“…yeah.” 

Was it just you, or was that reply a little late and lacking in energy? You eyed him as you cranked the lid off your beer. He was staring off into the distance.

“It’s okay though!” you reassured hastily, feeling bad that he seemed to be so sombre all of the sudden. “Drinking at home with the company of a friend is better than being out with strangers, right?”

“…huh? Oh. Yeah.” 

Had you said something wrong? He still sounded incredibly strained, like he was fighting to hold something back. You were a perceptive person—kind of have to be to read a jury—but you didn’t know what he could be thinking about. He should be celebrating the same as you. More so, even. Racking your brain, you wondered if you’d offended him or something.

“So you’re really going back to America tomorrow, huh?” he brought up suddenly after gulping down a good half of his drink with a wince. You blinked in surprise.

“I mean, yeah. I was only here for this case.”

“Right,” he mumbled, tapping the bottle on his leg. A ring of condensation darkened his black pants. “You’ve never considered moving back to Japan at all, have you?”

“Uh… what for?” you asked suspiciously. 

“Nothing. Just thinking about it since Oikawa moved back from Argentina. Forget it. D’you want some edamame? I can heat some up.”

The quick jump from _come back to Japan_ to _you want some soybeans?_ baffled you. Dazed, you couldn’t think of a proper response in time and watched him shoot to his feet, shuffling back out to the kitchen. You stared at the bubbles sizzling in your cheap beer. He couldn’t possibly be saying something along the lines of _I’d like you here_ … right? He was just being a good friend. That’s all.

He came back with a bowl of salted green soybeans. The atmosphere was a bit awkward, as if the two of you had things to talk about but couldn’t bring yourselves to bring them up. So much for being mature adults. You gnawed on the end of a shell, desperately waiting for the alcohol to kick in.

“I was really thankful,” he muttered, almost to himself. “When you came. I thought that was the end. And then you said all that stuff to me after I found out I’m not her biological dad… if I didn’t have you, I don’t know where I’d be right now.”

“Oh…” _Shit. Is he flirting with me?_ “You don’t have to say that. I just did what I had to do.”

“You’re right, though.” He was still staring at the bowl of edamame as if it were his conversation partner and you were the odd one out. “And seeing you give everything your all just for mine and Koko’s sake. I dunno how I’ll make it up to you.”

_You could kiss me, like you said._

“What?”

_Wh—oh my god, you just said that out loud, you stupid whore!_

“I’m—uh, I was joking!” you replied shrilly, stuffing your mouth with a pod of beans. His brow furrowed. God, have you always been such a mess around men?! It’s not like you’re woefully inexperienced, but you haven’t stepped into the world of _committed dating_ , per say. You just didn’t have the time or the effort for it. But the way Iwaizumi was staring at you… couldn’t you get used to that? Hearing his praise made you happier than getting the job done for once. You had spent many, many meals alone, eating cold take-out on the floor of your apartment as you poured over work. Now, you couldn’t even imagine what it’d be like to not sit at the table with the Iwaizumis. Couldn’t you get used to company?

But it was useless to be thinking in circles like this. Iwaizumi lived here in Sendai, Japan, and you lived there in LA, not-Japan. What were you going to do? Drop your rising career at a prestigious American law firm just to come home and chase some man you’d met for a little over a week due to extraneous circumstances?

But when he took the pod out of your mouth, leaning across the couch intently… 

You thought that maybe it’d be nice.

“I’m not drunk!” you exclaimed, your muscles tensing up to lock you in place. “Uh. In case you think you’re taking advantage of me or something. I have Asian glow so I get red on very little. You know how it is, right? Ha…”

“For somebody who’s such a good talker in the courtroom, you suck at this.” He laughed at the furious red blush that exploded across your face, taking your chin in his hand. Paralyzed, you watched him tilt his head, his broad jaw sharp with handsome lines that you’d love to lay your own hands over.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed. He was serious. You gulped, clenching the cold bottle in your hands like a life line.

“…yeah.”

It was magic and delicious and warm and sweet and comfort and—everything, really. He was everything. His lips coaxed yours open, wonderfully trained in the motion. Even the way he cradled your face was sweet. He was the type of man to cherish. It was gentle, but there was a desperate need in the way his tongue slipped into your mouth. You melted into his embrace, your eyes shut, your mind tethered to the moment. There’s no use overthinking it. Iwaizumi Hajime was kissing you _now_ , and there was no other place you’d rather be.


	9. Chapter 9

“You’ve got everything, right? You didn’t forget anything at Oikawa’s place?”

“For the last time, Hajime, I’ve got everything. I promise.”

“You just look like you’re carrying so little.”

“I’m a light traveller. You can quit worrying, okay? You’re not my mom.”

He huffed an exasperated sigh, crossing his arms. “Fine. Here I am, not worrying about you as if I don’t care.”

Your heart stampeded in your chest. He always managed to say such romantic things like that with ease. Was he a natural womanizer or something? Did he even _know_ the things he did to you? Screw you, Iwa-chan. 

“[Name]… you’ll be back to visit soon, right?”

Koko, who’d been heartbroken by the news that you weren’t actually going to stay forever as a surprise roommate, was shy with you all over again as she played with the hem of your dress. You crouched so that you were facing her eye-to-eye and tweaked her cheek, feeling at ease when she giggled in protest.

“Yes, I will. So wait for me, okay, Cocoa? We’ll go for an ice cream date without your dad the second I’m back.” You held out your hand, the pinky loosely curved. “Pinky promise.”

She grinned at her nickname, rubbing the red out of her cheek. Eagerly, she wrapped a small pudgy finger around yours. “’Kay.”

“Look at you,” Oikawa hummed as you got back up to your feet, “Miss ‘I hate kids’. When’d you get domesticated?” His brown eyes twinkled knowingly, darting over to where Iwaizumi was standing before coming back to you. You rolled your own eyes, controlling the urge to flip him off in front of the kid. 

“Don’t forget you still owe me your end of The Favour.” 

He was the first to get your series of good-bye hugs. You clapped him on the back, allowing him to squeeze you with enough strength to make your ribs creak. “Take care, Oikawa.”

“You too. Lemme know whenever you’re free to come home. I’ll be there.”

Koko was next. She wrapped her arms around you eagerly, laughing when you gave her a spin around. Then it was Iwaizumi’s turn. Awkwardly, your smile shrunk a few teeth. Did you… give him a handshake? A high five? But he’d already pulled you in for a hug, and before you knew it, he’d tenderly kissed the side of your neck.

“Don’t keep me waiting for long,” he whispered, pulling back. Numbly, you nodded.

“R-right.”

“Hey, [Name]! Can you guess how much I love you?”

Koko, seemingly jealous of her father for having your attention, spoke up demandingly. You glanced down, still reeling from Iwaizumi’s cologne. 

“Uh, no, hon. how much?”

She stretched her arms out as wide as she could, grinning broadly. “I love you _this_ much!”

“Wow. That’s a lot,” Oikawa remarked, playing along. “How much do you love me?”

“Um… this much.”

“That’s the same amount, Koko. C’mon. You’re breaking my heart. You just met [Surname] last week!”

“Yeah, but Daddy loves [Name] this much times…” Her face screwed up in concentration as she struggled to stretch her arm width out even further. “Times infinity!”

“Wh—Koko!” Iwaizumi spluttered. You covered your mouth to hide the face of surprise and glee. Iwaizumi, red to his ear tips, swatted at his daughter’s hands as she shrieked with laughter. Oikawa snickered to himself.

“I am the best wing man ever. It’s okay. You can say it.”

“Alright, you lot have had your fun. [Name] has to go before she’s late.” He picked his daughter up and rested her against his hip. Then, he gave you a secretive smile, warmed by the blush still present on his face. “See you soon.”

Finally, you left for the security line. But when you turned around, curiosity getting the better of you, Koko and Hajime were still waving. Oikawa grinned with his hands in his pocket, shooting you a wink. Your heart was full with love… by _this_ much times infinity and one.


	10. Chapter 10

“I’ll come a half hour early or something?”

“Sure, but be careful in the pick-up lane. I heard they’re cracking down on idlers really harshly.” You excused yourself quietly as you squeezed past somebody before turning your attention back to the phone. “You think a thirteen-year-old would like a book as a birthday present still? Is that too lame for a tween?”

“She’s a girl. Just get her something a girl would like.” Some rustling and banging—he was probably making dinner. “She’s liked all your presents so far.”

“I can’t believe she’s already thirteen,” you lamented, slowing your walk. Your suitcase wheels clicked over the tile as you glanced out over LAX, watching a plane touch down in the distance through the huge windows. “It’s crazy how time flies.”

“You’ll be here for our anniversary too, right?”

“Yeah, of course I will. I took an extra week off.”

“Good. I’ve planned something, and you better like it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you teased. “Even if you take me out to that shit izakaya we went out to when I was working your case, I’d be happy. I’m not as high maintenance as you make me out to be.”

“Nah. You kind of are.”

“What was that?” you asked coldly.

“Nothing, my love.” He laughed, and your shoulders eased just listening to it. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Mm. Me too. And who knows? If I get accepted at Kogami and Gold’s Japan branch, I’ll be working in Sendai and can finally move in.”

“It’s not an _if_ ,” he chided. “They’d be stupid not to hire you. I bet they’ll be on their hands and knees _begging_ for you to come work for them.”

“You’re sweet.”

“It’s the truth. My girlfriend’s the most kickass lawyer in the world.”

_My girlfriend_. Your lips quirked up into a smile immediately, but you wouldn’t give him the gloating privilege of knowing.

You weren’t the settler type. You followed the scent of success. It took you halfway across the planet and drove you for years of your life. You didn’t need anybody but yourself, you thought. And then, Iwaizumi Hajime changed you. It wasn’t that you were incomplete without him—God, far from it. Separated, you were a highly accomplished civil law attorney. But, together, you were that _and_ a happy girl head over heels in love. He’d softened some of your edges. 

It was perfect. 

“ **Good morning, passengers. Flight thirty-six thousand, destination: Sendai, will soon be boarding groups A, B, and C.** ”

“That’s my cue,” you said, perking up. “I’ve got to go.”

“So soon?”

“I’ll see you in a few hours, loser.”

“And I’ll be counting the minutes. Text me when you’ve landed. Have a safe flight.”

“Will do.”

“[Name]—I love you.”

“How much?”

You could practically see the scowl on his face. “Can’t you drop it? It’s been years!”

“How much?” you insisted, grinning to yourself.

“… _thiiiiis_ much. Now go.” He hung up before you could retort, and also before you could tell him that you loved him too—but it was okay. You were sure that he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all's well that ends well :) thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: https://deltachye.tumblr.com/


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